Page 36 of Big Daddy

Winnie smiles. “Did you call the college the same way you called the film department when Brielle was assigned to Augustus?”

With a wink, I shrug. “I wanted to know what you need so I could give you what you need.”

I’ve never been so aware of my hard cock and full balls before.

She smiles. “Thank you, Big Daddy.” Nodding toward the phone, she puts on a smile, hampered by a sadness she tries to hide. “Now talk to my best friend.” I thoroughly enjoy the sway of her hips and ass as she unfortunately leaves my office.

“Hi, Dad,” Brielle says when I call her back. She didn’t wait on the line—she hung up.

“Hello, Brielle. How are you doing?” I ask, staring at the closed office door, imagining Winnie on the other side. I shake my head, hoping to temporarily shake free of her. She claws and clings to my every thought, and even talking to my daughter, I can’t seem to shake her.

“Busy. Very busy. The apprenticeship is going really well, actually, so I think it’s a good thing we weren’t able to get me placed somewhere else.”

Brielle has attended UCSF for her undergraduate and graduate degrees. Donations to the board, sponsoring fundraisers, being the only fundraiser—you name it and I’ve done it, all in the name of getting my daughter the very best education. Her mother would have wanted that, and I want that, too.

But recently she was assigned to a porn production company, and all the foot stomping in the world wouldn’t change the outcome. I should be glad to know she’s enjoying it. And truthfully, I am. I’m just a creature of habit, deeply rooted in my ways.

“For what I pay—” I start, but stop myself. Winnie’s words flash through my mind.You’re an asshole, Big Daddy. She called me that over the phone, and she was right. It’s not like I haven’t known. “Never mind. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Are you learning?”

Brielle stutters over her words before finally saying, “Yeah, Dad, I’m really liking it.”

“Good. I am happy to hear that,” I say, I think trying those words out for the first time ever.

“I was thinking we could have dinner tonight?” she offers.

I had no plans with Winnie, nothing we discussed. I had no plans other than to work late, go home, keep working, drink scotch, eat a prepared meal, then crash. My usual. Still, I wish that Winnie were going.

I lick my lips, taking a moment before I say, “That would be great. Dinner would be great.”

“Really?” Brielle questions, her elevated tone wrapping me in guilt. “Okay, well, I was thinking about the Greek place near Rise & Grind.”

“Great.” I look at the tiny wet spot on the edge of my desk left behind by Winnie. “Do you want to invite anyone?”

Brielle falls silent. I can’t mention Winnie by name because that would be exceptionally weird, and a reach beyond anything reasonable.

“I’m not inviting my bosses, Dad. You’ll meet them at the show at the end of the year.”

“Fine,” I say, without clarification, without pressing it. If I can’t bring it up organically, it’s too risky. “I’ll meet you there. What time? 7?”

She harrumphs. “We aren’t done on set till 8. Is half past eight too late?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Perfect. See you then.”

I end the call and find myself staring at the phone. That was the best phone call we’ve had in years. Maybe ever. At least since she’s been an adult.

A dinner with my daughter later, and Winnie within viewing distance all day, the taste of her pussy still burned onto my tongue. What a fucking day.

chapter thirteen

quincey

Stupid fucking lawyer shit.

I had back-to-back meetings, conference calls, and even had to make a last-minute run to see a judge downtown today.

I barely got a whiff of Winnie.

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